


The Halls of The Kings Who Are Gone | Jonerys Secret Santa 2019

by ReinaWritesStuff



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Alternate Ending, F/M, Fix-It, Fluff, House Targaryen, Implied/Referenced Incest, Jonerys, Jonerys Secret Santa, Jonerys Secret Santa 2019, One Shot, Pro Daenerys, Romantic Fluff, Season 8? I don’t know her, Short & Sweet, Short One Shot, Targaryen Restoration, but she sounds like a real b!tch, no damned mAd kWe3nz allowed in this fic, no one is getting stabbed because I said so and it’s Christmas so fcuk you, not ooc, pro Jon Snow, salt fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-27
Updated: 2019-12-27
Packaged: 2021-02-18 07:07:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21990232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReinaWritesStuff/pseuds/ReinaWritesStuff
Summary: It’s a heavy crown Daenerys will wear when after her coronation tomorrow. So, she takes the night before to reflect on the road behind her, the road ahead of her and her journey with the one who had loved her the most.—————————————What if the Kings Landing throne room finale scene... but like good?
Relationships: Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen
Comments: 21
Kudos: 100





	The Halls of The Kings Who Are Gone | Jonerys Secret Santa 2019

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LustOnMyFingers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LustOnMyFingers/gifts).



> Hello, this is me retconning season 8’s retcon like some kind of Reverse UNO card. Please enjoy my cheese.
> 
> My gift for the sweet and kind tomakeitbeautiful to love on Tumblr! It’s me, too-much-jonerys, YOUR 2019 SECRET SANTA!! Bearing the gift of forgetting that season 8 ever existed! I hope you enjoy this!

She walked quietly through the dim corridors with a lantern in hand. The twists and turns of the palace were still new, and Dany had gotten turned around a couple of times on her way from her bed chamber. Her bed chamber. Her palace. It hadn’t set in that The Red Keep was hers. It didn’t feel like hers. Still, every step felt somehow familiar. 

Each guard she passed, she assured to be at ease. Their queen was safe in the halls her family built. And she had one important thing to do alone before her coronation that next day. 

Down and down through those halls, she finally reached the throne room and with a deep breath she willed herself to enter. As she pushed the doors open, a gust of wind hit her. But, it wasn’t cold. It was warm. As warm as the sun breaking through clouds on an overcast day. It beckoned her. She stepped down the long pathway towards the throne forged of swords. Forged by dragons. The enormous window behind the chair bore a large, newly-casted sigil. Three dragons. For the first time in over two decades. It was everything she couldn’t have ever thought to imagine.

The room seemed immense and grand as she slowly neared the throne. Yet, Dany somehow knew she wasn’t alone there. She could hear voices calling her name softly. She didn’t know who they were, but something told her that they were family. The Targaryens long gone who’d ascended those same steps. Sat on that same throne beneath the same sigil. 

_Daenerys_ , they whispered as she approached the chair and reached out to touch it.

_Daenerys_

_Daenerys_

“Dany?”

She gasped and spun around quickly, holding up her lantern, right in time to see Jon enter the room, his own light in hand. Dany greeted him gently, a welcomed sight in her sea of emotions. His gait carried a slight limp as he was still injured from the battle. So, she stepped back down the stairs to meet him. 

“How did you know I was here?”

“Because you weren’t in your room,” Jon remarked, “And where else would you be before tomorrow?” 

He knew her well. She hadn’t slept well for three nights, at least, thinking of the day, and found herself wandering aimlessly each time. This time, of course, there was a specific aim. 

“Tomorrow there will be hundreds of people in this room for the ceremony. I needed to take this all in for myself first. To be here beforehand without all of the eyes.” 

“I can leave if you want then.”

“No. No, please. Stay for a bit.”

Dany turned her eyes back to the throne. Imposing in the moonlight. The torches which lined the walls danced flickering lights on the surfaces of the swords. Some dulled with time others with the shine of fresh metals. Still she was in awe of it.

“A sight to see, isn’t it?”

“A bit smaller than I thought, honestly,” she replied with sarcasm. 

“The songs did embellish it some.” 

“Have you ever envisioned something in your mind so vividly that when you finally see it, and when it exceeds your visions, you’re waiting for it to fade away? For it to not be real?”

“Yes. And it makes it even better when I realize that it _is_ real.”

“It somehow doesn’t calm my nerves any more to know that it’s real.”

The worry she’d tried to keep so hidden inside must have flashed across her face, because he gave her a curious look. Dany sat down on the bottom stair, her nightgown pooling under her, and drew in her knees as she would when she was younger. With a wince, Jon took a seat beside her, grabbing her hand in comfort.

“What’s wrong,” he asked. Dany softly shook her head.

“There’s nothing wrong, really. I am only thinking of…” She adjusted her jaw and thought hard before forming her words. “Much of my life, I believed that it would be Viserys who would ascend those steps. Take his _rightful_ seat in the place of our ancestors. Rule as the beloved king he, I suppose foolishly, thought of himself as. And I would– I don’t know. For so long, I didn’t know where I belonged in Viserys’ reign other than behind him. But, since I was the one to take the throne, and I will be the one to ascend… what comes next?”

“You rule.”

“It’s easy to say, isn’t it? But, I’m not only wearing the crown for myself or the country I’m still learning about. I’m wearing it for everyone who died to bring me here. For Viserys. For my good mother. For Rhaegar. For you.”

She left a pause in the air after her last word, one that didn’t go unchecked by Jon.

“That’s a heavy crown,” he said quietly.

“A heavy crown to wear alone.”

“Dany,” Jon sighed.

They’d had the conversation before. Multiple times since Jon told her the truth of his parentage. While she’d come to welcome the reality of having a family again, someone whom she loved, she knew that Jon struggled with the enormity of the life he knew being a closely guarded lie. Though she stopped herself short of pressuring, she made no secret to him that she wanted him to rule beside her as Aegon VI. A Targaryen queen and king just as before. He’d been denied his true identity since birth. He could finally have a chance at being the person he was meant to be, just as she had. To reign as Rhaegar would have. As she would. Jon was more reluctant to accept the offer.

“I know what you’re going to say,” he spoke.

“I know you do. And I stand by what I say.”

“As do I. I can’t rule Westeros. I don’t want to.”

“And I don’t want you to have to continue to deny who you are.”

“Who I am,” he repeated low.

He thought for a moment then placed his other hand over hers. For some time, Jon looked out across the room, lost in thought. Dany was anxious to hear what he had to say, even if she’d heard his answer time and time again. Finally, his warm brown eyes found hers with a softness she hadn’t seen when he’d previously discussed the matter. 

“For better or worse, I’d built a life as Jon Snow. That’s who I’d always been. I met you not as Aegon, son of a prince or heir to a throne. I met you as Jon Snow. I fell for you as Jon Snow. I know the truth about my identity. My Stark family knows. And you know. That’s all I could’ve asked for. I don’t need any throne or countrywide announcement to accept who I am. I know. I know now more than I ever have. That’s Jon Snow.” 

Dany nodded. It was the first time he’d said as much so definitively and at ease. She knew that this was truly and finally his answer. Whether he wore a crown alongside her. Whether he was hailed and proclaimed as Rhaegar’s lost son. Or whether he continued in life as the illegitimate son turned hero in war that the world knew him as. It wouldn’t change the love Dany had for him. If knowing was enough for his own acceptance, it was enough for hers. She smiled. 

“I will still need my council. Those I trust more than anyone to be by my side.”

“You will. And you’ll have it by your side. Now and always.”

Satisfied with his answer, Dany closed her eyes and met his lips with a sweet kiss. When they broke apart, they sat for a moment, their foreheads together and breaths synced. They had each other just as they had for every day since they joined. Through whatever struggles came to him while handling his new life, she would be there. Through whatever uncertainty her reign would bring her, he would be there. 

“I’m going back now,” Jon whispered, “You should go to bed, too.”

“I could use the company tonight,” Dany replied quietly, a sly smirk creeping on her face.

Jon laughed bashfully, smoothing his thumb over her cheek.

“If my queen wishes it.”

“Not your queen,” she said, gently touching his face, “Only me.”

He grinned as he stood, helping her up, as well. He began to walk on with her hand entwined in his, but she didn’t move. She bit her lip pensively, glancing back behind her.

“I’ll be there shortly,” she said, “I just need a moment more here.”

In agreement, Jon kissed her hand before leaving her alone with her thoughts. Alone with that bladed seat. She walked back up to it. 

Dany sat down, the chair engulfing her small frame. Her feet only barely grazed the floor when she sat back. It wasn’t a comfortable chair, of course. And it was hard and cold. But it was hers. Once she settled, she looked over the empty space. Her breaths seemed to echo in her ears over the dead silence. Unexpectedly, her eyes glossed over and began to well. The sting of a tear formed before it slid down her face. Then another. Tears not for any sadness, but for her journey. The journey which bore her dragons and brought her to Jon. The journey which led to the three-headed dragon restored in its rod iron and stained glass glory. The journey which led to her ascending those steps and sitting in the place where she sat. 

And, for the first time since her victory, she allowed herself a triumphant smile. 

**Author's Note:**

> Was that so hard, D&D, hmm? Was that so damned hard? 
> 
> Was this cheesy? Sure.
> 
> Do I care if it’s cheesy because I like it better than the actual show ending? *looks into the camera like I’m on The Office* 
> 
> Annnyway, it was wild writing in canon(ish) verse again, because I’ve been submerged in my modern AUs. I’m excited for you to read them. More of those coming this weekend! Happy Holidays, everybody!


End file.
